


And as the World came to an end, our love flourished in its flames

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Antichrist, Bipolar behavior, Crowley buys some cute maternity clothes in this, Crowley isn’t exactly a male so just, Hellhounds, Intersex Crowley, Lactation, M/M, Male Lactation, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Sad boi times, This fic is kind of all over the place, devils day, good omens - Freeform, hermaphrodite, how do you tag, i tried to follow the timeline but i kind of messed up, mpreg kind of, not canon, possible sex, satan and god are best friends fight me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-18 11:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When God created Demons and Angels, there were no genders. No she/her, no he/him, just they/them or it.A quick run down has been provided by God herself...In biology, a hermaphrodite is an organism that has complete or partial reproductive organs and produces gametes normally associated with both male and female sexes. Many taxonomic groups of animals do not have separate sexes. In these groups, hermaphroditism is a normal condition, enabling a form of sexual reproduction in which either partner can act as the female or male. For example, the great majority of tunicates, pulmonate snails, opisthobranch snails, earthworms and slugs are hermaphrodites.Historically, the term hermaphrodite has also been used to describe ambiguous genitalia and gonadal mosaicism in individuals of gonochoristic species, especially human beings. The word intersex has come into preferred use for humans, since the word hermaphrodite is considered to be misleading and stigmatizing, as well as "scientifically specious and clinically problematic.”





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I suck at writing but this idea came to me so yeet here it is! 
> 
> The big italic pieces of writing is God speaking (aka basically the narrator like in the show itself) 
> 
> Anyway any questions or concerns can be dropped in the comments :)

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ∋━━o(｀∀´oメ）～→

 

The note requesting his presence above arrived via a human messenger, tucked safely away in a simple white envelope addressed to  _ 19 Greek Street, Aziraphale Angel _ . 

 

“Well, at least he’s not here “looking” for porn again.” Sighed Aziraphale himself, letter in his hands to be placed with every other notice that has been sent from above, “Suppose I should be off then, wouldn’t want to leave Gabriel and his Angels waiting.” 

 

_ And so off went the Angel, unknowing off the simple few words that would turn his life upside and shake it until all his spare change fell from his pockets.  _

 

~666~

 

_ It would seem Aziraphale was the one doing the waiting, and rather nervously at that. The Angel always seemed nervous whenever Gabriel requested to meet with him, but that’s another story. _

 

“Ah! Aziraphale, it would seem you’ve received my letter!” Gabriel waltzed into the room, his three Archangels following at his heel, “Human mail is a rather interesting affair, don’t you think? You put your letter into a metal box, flip a little thingy and than another human just knows that you’ve got mail to be sent! Then they take it away in those little vehicles of theirs and the next thing you know, your letter has been delivered! Truly fascinating, isn’t it?” 

 

After his impressive ramble came a chorus of  _ ‘so fascinating _ ’ and ‘ _ what an interesting concept _ ’ and more among those lines from Gabriels entourage. 

 

Aziraphale faked a smile.

 

“Oh yes, they’ve certainly developed some very riveting ways. Did you know they’ve now fabricated a way to send letters from one computer to another using the online? They call it  _ emailing _ .” Aziraphale spoke in turn, attempting to match Gabriel's passion with his own words. 

 

“I’ll have too look into that! Someone write that down— write that down and circle it, won’t you? I don’t want to forget about this emailing— but anyway, we’ve gone rather off the rails, haven’t we?” Questioned Gabriel to Aziraphale, like the former even knew why he was summoned. 

 

“Um— I suppose so?” 

 

“Yes! We have! Now then, let’s get on with business matters. I’ve got a job for you, Aziraphale. It’s rather simple, truly, but also rather time consuming I’m afraid.” As Gabriel spoke, Aziraphale shifted under the watching gazes of the other three Angels in the room, but smiled nevertheless, “As you know, the end is nigh, which means the birth of the Antichrist is even closer. We’ve gotten a hint from one of our ground agents of who has been tasked to carry the Antichrist to term.” 

 

_ At this point, Aziraphale believes that Gabriel is just asking for him to find the Mother of the Antichrist and observe her. Possibly interfere if needed _ .

 

“Crowley, the snake demon, is believed to be the one who has been tasked with the job. Unfortunately we didn’t expect God to put faith into a demon to carry the babe, but God likes to keep our minds sharp, doesn’t she? We are underprepared, is what I am trying to say— all of my current ground agents are rather busy with other important business, and so this is where you come into play, Aziraphale.” Gabriel waved a hand and in poofed a glass of water, which he inhaled like a dying man, “Sandalphon tell him the plan.” 

 

Sandalphon flustered, but composed himself quickly with a small cough into his fisted hand.

 

“What Gabriel wants is for you to observe Crowley and make sure he produces a healthy Antichrist. Seeing as you’ve already had a few encounters with the demon, your sudden interest in being near him shouldn’t raise any concerns— which is why Gabriel finds you best suited for this assignment.” Explained Sandalphon.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly. You said that the demon Crowley is carrying the Antichrist? As in,  _ he  _ is pregnant with the Antichrist?” Aziraphale stood, shock evident on his face, for he’d been rather sure that Crowley had been, well, a  _ he _ , and he’s couldn’t be impregnated.

 

“In simpler terms, yes. The demon Crowley is pregnant with the Antichrist and  _ they  _ need to be watched, and so we ask of you to watch  _ them  _ until the Antichrist is birthed and delivered to his respective home. From then on, the plan will continue with no more hitches hopefully.” 

 

Aziraphale flinched with each ‘they/them’ that Sandalphon worked out, a flush high on his cheeks. Even without offending anyone, the Angel still felt guilt course through him.

 

“You are up for this task, aren't you, Aziraphale?” Gabriel piped back in, glass miracled away off to wherever things go, “I understand if you are not. I mean, we did rather spring this upon you— the Antichrist is a huge thing, so unless we can fully relay on you—“

 

“I can do it!” Interrupted Aziraphale, hands curled into fist at his sides. He wasn’t angry particularly, no, rather he was disappointed— in himself truly. Here was Gabriel, an Archangel, doubting his abilities to simply watch over a pregnant demon. “I can do it.” He repeated in a softer tone of voice. 

 

A pregnant pause filled the air.

 

_ Aziraphale is rather nervous now, as you may imagine one might be. Silence is never fun to dwell in, especially when you’re awaiting an answer from your boss.  _

 

“Alright—“ Gabriel started and Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief, “Return to Earth as soon as possible, Aziraphale. Keep me updated via those emailing things on the on-line won’t you?” 

 

“Yes! Yes, of course!” And with their business discussion drawn to an end, Gabriel excused himself and his Angels and promptly disappeared. As did Aziraphale, who miracled himself right back down to Earth with a sudden need to see Crowley himself and hear the spill from the demons own mouth. 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley’s just finished his daily tormenting of his houseplants when Aziraphale rings him. 
> 
> To be fair, Crowley has been waiting for the day when Angel would call him first— but he’s got the weird feeling that what said Angel wants to talk about has to do with Crowley's new. . . Development.
> 
> “Angel!” The demon picks up on the third ring, voice faking his typical nonchalantly tone, “What can I do for you?”
> 
> “I’m sure you know exactly what you can do for me, Crowley. Meet me at the Regency Cafe in ten minutes, won’t you?” And with his words said, the line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Crowley and my writing still sucks but yehaw

Crowley’s just finished his daily tormenting of his houseplants when Aziraphale rings him. 

 

To be fair, Crowley has been waiting for the day when Angel would call him first— but he’s got the weird feeling that what said Angel wants to talk about has to do with Crowley's new. . .  _ Development. _

 

“Angel!” The demon picks up on the third ring, voice faking his typical nonchalantly tone, “What can I do for you?”

 

“I’m sure you know exactly what you can do for me, Crowley. Meet me at the Regency Cafe in ten minutes, won’t you?” And with his words said, the line went dead.

 

~666~

 

“So Satan just decided that you’d be the best fit demon to carry the Antichrist?” Aziraphale had already ordered for them both by the time Crowley showed up, a whole twenty minutes late with the excuse of ‘ _ there was traffic _ ’ rich on his tongue. 

 

“In simple terms, yeah. He said it had something to do with all the evil deeds I’ve done and how he would be the one honored to have me mother his son.” Crowley winced in memory of the day Satan had summoned him down to the depths of Hell for a chit-chat, but faked it off as a chill. 

 

Aziraphale eyed him curiously, one bushy brow raised in obvious suspicion over the rim of his teacup. Crowley really wished the Angel would either just drop the topic or ask questions until his heart was content— it would be a lot better then the silence Aziraphale had created.

 

“When you say mother. . . Do you mean that you’ve, oh well you know.” Aziraphale gestured a hand towards his groin, and flapped it aimlessly like it would get the message across.

 

“Excuse me? I have literally no idea what you’re trying to say here, Angel.”

 

“You know!” Aziraphale leant across the table in a way that Crowley could only describe as dignified, well— as dignified as one can be when leant across a table of tea and hand foods. “Did you change your parts to fit the motherly role?”

 

“Of course I didn’t! Gods no, for Satan’s sake Aziraphale, what kind of question is that?” Crowley hush shouted, face a brilliant flush of red as embarrassment crept up on him. Aziraphale’s cheeks matched his.

 

The Angel to seemed to contemplate a respectable answer judging by the way he refused to make eye contact with Crowley and the way he shoved three more crepes down the hatch. 

 

“It was just a question, I don’t see why you had to get so worked up over it. Have the mood swings already set in?” Aziraphale asked.

 

_ From this point on, Aziraphale knew he had severely messed up. But it was always fun to tease Crowley, at least, it had been before this new issue had arisen. _

 

Crowley gasped, a hand sprayed out over his heart for added dramatic effect. 

 

“I can’t believe you’d say that! Oh my feelings! Oh my heart, it hurts— you’ve wounded me, Angel. Truly, you’ve all but stabbed me in the gut with that firey sword of yours that you gave away!” 

 

For the first few seconds after Crowley's outburst Aziraphale just stared at the demon, expression unreadable. He made no motion other than setting his teacup down. 

 

“Crowley… Are you prepared to be pregnant?”

 

The question took Crowley aback. 

 

Was he prepared to be pregnant— well, he was already pregnant but was he prepared to carry out this pregnancy? Obviously he’d have to, seeing as he couldn’t just abort the Antichrist but Crowley wasn’t completely sure if he was ready for a full nine months of pregnancy.

 

He barely ate as it was. Human food never brought him any pleasure, and it wasn’t like he had to eat to survive, Hell, the only times he ever actually indulged in a meal was when Aziraphale tempted him to a lunch and even then Crowley just liked to pick at his food. 

There was no way he was going to be able to supply the baby with the nutrients it needed for nine months. 

 

And not to forget, his habit of drinking a bottle of something a day— that would have to be something he stopped right away. But could he? Crowley never considered himself addicted to alcohol but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to just stop drinking, he wasn’t even sure if he could stop even if he slowly weened off of it.

 

In conclusion, there was no way he could do this.

 

“I can’t do this, Aziraphale.” Crowley voiced.

 

“Oh yes you can. This is all part of the Great Plan! God wouldn’t have let this happen if she didn’t think you could do this!” Aziraphale argued.

 

_ Fair point,  _ Crowley thought. But he’d already gone and fucked up once before and God didn't seem to mind booting him right out of Heaven— so what’s to stop her from terminating his pregnancy and finding another demon who could do just as good, if not  _ even better,  _ than Crowley?

 

“I can hear you think, Crowley! Just take a breathe in, won’t you? All this stress can’t be good on the baby.”

 

_ Oh great, another thing to add on.  _ There was no way Crowley was ever going to be stress-free!

 

“I’m going to be a horrible parent, Angel. What if I accidentally drink— or what if I stress out too much, or what if I don’t eat enough for him? What if I starve him? Oh my lord below, I’m going to kill the Antichrist!” Crowley bashed his knee against the table as he jolted himself up, sending poor macaronis into the air along with a spot of tea.

 

“Crowley— you’re going to be fine! Now sit down, won’t you? You’ve rather caused a scene.” Aziraphale seemed to do his typical job of miracling everything back to perfect, if the unblemished macaronis were anything to go by, “Sometimes I wonder if I know you better than you know yourself, dear Crowley. You have been chosen by God for a reason, and I’m sure the almighty wouldn’t have picked you if she didn’t know that things would turn out all right in the end. You truly are an admirable person— well demon in your case —and I believe that God made the right choice on choosing you to carry the Antichrist.” 

 

“You’re bluffing.”

 

“Am not. I’m an Angel, I don’t lie.”

 

“Yes you do.”

 

“No I don’t.”

 

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

 

“Well yes— but I also—“

 

“Okay, stop.” Crowley held a hand up, effectively silencing the Angel, “Can we just be over and done with this conversation? I’m rather famished and I’d like to get home as soon as possible, and we both know that we could argue for a decade. So let’s just settle this next week over a cup of tea at  _ Le Gavroche,  _ you know how to get there.” 

 

Aziraphale seemed to mule over Crowley’s words for a second, but sighed in defeat after Crowley faked a yawn. He supposed he should let the demon rest while the baby was still inactive.

 

“How about Wednesday at noon then? I’ll reserve your favorite seat by the window.” Aziraphale questioned, and made a mental note to do such once we returned to his bookstore after Crowley nodded in agreement, “Well then, till Wednesday.”

 

“Till, Wednesday.” 


End file.
